The Gruesome Lighthouse
by Percy James
Summary: A mage from the College of Winterhold loses his way in a snowstorm and finds a seemingly abandoned lighthouse where he takes shelter. A re-telling of the quest "The Frostflow Lighthouse"; the first chapter is merely build-up, the actual story will follow shortly.


So, this is my first small attempt at some more serious writing, mainly to get some feedback, advice and suggestions for improvement. As english is not my native language, I apologize for any mistakes; please point them out to me, may it be style, grammar, wrong choice of words, etc.

tl;dr: blah blah, whiny writer, first story, review pls

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After our little adventure in the old northern ruin of Saarthal, which involved various undead and a quite powerful sorcerer, my colleagues from the Mage's College of Winterhold and I decided to go separate ways for now. They were heading back to the college, while I set myself the goal to reach the city of Dawnstar before evenfall - a foolish objective in retrospect. When we stepped out of the door into the biting cold of the ice desert of the Winterhold, the sun had already reached its zenith, and even now, at the warmest time of the day, the air was freezing. We were all shivering in our thick fur cloaks and were almost blown away by the sharp gusts of icy wind that blew into our faces. I didn't hesitate and lifted my hand and a second later, a bright, warm flame of arcane fire appeared in it, as big as an apple, and warmed up my face. The others did the same, and one even shared a bottle of mead among us to keep our insides warm as well. We used the wooden stairs and platforms to get out of the excavation site at the bottom of which was the door to the underground ruins of Saarthal. A few of the college's more experienced mages were to stay behind and search for possible enchanted artefacts; we scholars were told to go back to the College and inform the Arch-Mage of our discoveries.  
As we were climbing up the brittle wooden staircase, I briefly informed my colleagues that I had planned to travel to Dawnstar the same day and that I wouldn't bother to come back to the College with them. The others reluctantly agreed; they were not particularly worried because of the Master Wizard, Mirabelle, who had strict regulations for every scholar leaving or entering the College grounds; but more because of the dangers on my way.  
The few living creatures in the ice desert of the Winterhold were wild animals such as mountain goats and snow foxes, but also rare packs of wolves and even the white-furred, three-eyed snow trolls. Besides, traveling to Dawnstar by foot would take almost more than a day, in good weather. And one wouldn't wish for anybody to be caught in a snowstorm out there - the plains lacked any form of flora and didn't offer any protection against the weather. One or two of my friends argued that I should come back to the city of Winterhold first, have a hearty meal in the _Frozen Heart_ , the local inn, get a good night's rest in my bed in the College, and on the next day I could leave in the morning, well packed and prepared.  
I politely declined. The excuse for my sudden departure was poor but true: two days ago, I had received a letter from some historical expert who opened a museum in Dawnstar, and claimed to have retrieved genuine daedric artefacts. As we all knew, artefacts like these could potentially be terribly dangerous in the wrong hands, and even though I had my doubts at the credibility of the historian, it was my duty as a member of the College to investigate. Usually, one of the other more skilled mages would have to do that, but it was my full intent not to tell anybody about the letter until the last minute. That gave me the chance to quickly end the discussion and take my leave; I promised they could expect my return in the next few days. "And send my regards to our Master Wizard", I added with a smile. They waved their hands at me as we headed off into different directions; they went to the east, to the city of Winterhold and the Mage's College, which they would reach by foot in about an hour; I turned around and began my journey into the west to Dawnstar. I had nothing with me save for my clothes (hooded robes and a thick fur cloak) and my knapsack, just filled with a few supplies and some gold. As soon as my colleagues were out of sight, my steps became involuntary lighter, and the flame in my left hand grew slightly larger and warmer. Part of me was disappointed that they had let me go so easily, as if I would just take a stroll to town on a sunny afternoon, and not a risky trip to another city several miles away beyond an arctic waste. But they were surely trusting in me and respected my decision. Or perhaps they were secretly hoping that I'd fall victim to one of the dangers of the wild and simply vanish.

I shook my head and repressed the thought. I didn't have to think about this; for the next few days, I finally had some air to breath and was free for once. Free of the endless conflicts at the College, where anybody talked behind their backs about everybody, where two scholars who seemed like friends in the morning were at each other's throats in the evening. Ruse, falseness, hypocrisy - I was so sick of it. The College offered the best learning opportunities any mage could wish for and in the few months I've been there I had learned more about magic than in my entire life, but still - there were so many times when I just wished to sneak out and disappear for a few days. Often I had fantasized about casting an invisibility spell on myself to avoid contact with everyone else altogether, but I couldn't keep it up for longer than a few minutes. Which was pretty helpful nonetheless, for example, to smuggle some books about delicate subjects out of the library, or retaliating harmless pranks against other scholars. Occasionally, I would also find myself thinking about abstract uses of the more powerful, dangerous spells and how these pesky High-Elves would like it if let them hang headfirst in the air, a few hundred meters above ground, but according to the Master Wizards these spells "weren't intended to get rid of annoying colleagues." But even among the older mages and scholars the same disrespect and childish behavior could be found. More than often there were missing personal items that mysteriously turned up in other people's rooms, the typical whispering and cackling behind their backs, and sometimes even unfeigned bullying, which of course no one tried to stop or stand up against. Not even the Arch-Mage itself who could only rarely be seen outside of his office.  
When I first arrived at the College, I quickly learned that the best way to avoid all of that trouble was to stick to my own studies and reduce contact to a minimum. This tactic turned out to be quite effective and I got my peace (on some days less than on others), and over time I even met a handful of people who were actually quite decent and supportive.

As I kept thinking about the place I was slowly letting behind rather than the way before me, the sun was slowly setting. The wind had picked up speed again; when I started my travel hours ago, it seemed to weaken but now it was pushing again, sharp winds blowing directly from the west into my face. The fire in my hand had shrunk to the size of a cherry as my magical reserves steadily depleted; keeping it up for hours in this environment had left me with a fraction of my usual power. If I was to be attacked right here and now by some vicious animal, I would only have some of my weakest spells to defend myself with.  
I looked around me; if it wasn't for the setting sun directly ahead of me, I wouldn't have known where I was going. The arctic snowscape around me never seemed to change and I couldn't have told if I had walked ten meters or ten miles since the start of my journey. The ice desert stayed the same, just like the Sea of Ghosts to my right which I could still see in the distance. At its coast further up ahead must lie Dawnstar, I assumed; but yet, there was nothing to be seen except for snow, ice, and the sea.  
Hours had passed and I was already getting tired. In the College, I hardly got the chance for physical exercise and my last travel by foot was actually the one from my former home in Windhelm to Winterhold, months ago. Meanwhile, I cursed myself internally for my idiotic juvenile idea of running off into the blue like that. I wouldn't turn around and go back now - it was too late for that anyway. I told myself that I had already made a large portion of the way and that Dawnstar could not be too far now. It was still a few hours before dusk, and the chances that I would reach the city in time were quite good.

The sun was steadily sinking, and the wind was now howling around me, tiny snow crystals drifting into my face. I'm sure I would've seen my own shadow growing longer behind me, but I didn't look back. I kept stomping forward through the snow, ignoring the changing color of the sky as well as the forming clouds in it. The sun seemed to have come to a halt right over the horizon, bathing everything in a golden light for several minutes. The snow around me was practically sparkling, and when I looked to my right, I could see the Sea of Ghosts glowing in the distance, its waters shining like a golden plate.

Then, the sun began to vanish and the first snowflakes fell down from the sky.

I felt like it just became ten degrees colder almost immediately. I hurried on, my teeth chattering and my breath visible as a small cloud in the air that was always instantly blown away by the wind. The snowflakes, only sporadic at first, now became more and more. The tiny flame in my hand was flickering and my fingers felt numb already. Twenty steps more and I felt my feet going numb as well; the feeling crept up my legs and I felt like the cold was seeping through my whole body like I was absorbing it from the ground. I lifted the other arm to protect my face from the sharp wind and the snow; it forced me to walk slower and soon I needed all the power I had left to stand up against it.  
I couldn't hear anything but the wind whistling in my ears and with every gust, another wave of snow came crashing down on me. My fire, reduced to a candle flame, died at last.  
With the next wave, I stumbled back and my legs gave up. I fell down into the white soft snow and for a moment I thought about closing my eyes and just falling asleep. It would've been so easy, despite the roaring storm around me.

But of course I wouldn't give up so easily. My powers, both physical and magical, were drained, I couldn't expect help from anybody and the situation was looking bleak; but still, I refused to give up. I would _not_ die out here in the cold, on my knees and shivering like some ordinary peasant. I was a mage of the College of Winterhold, soon-to-be Master Wizard and wielder of arcane powers! I would let them know back at the College, all those pesky High-Elves and stuck-up bigots, that I had made it back because of my own willpower and determination, something they wouldn't even understand in a thousand years! I _knew_ I had the strength inside me, to just get up...and keep going...

But just a little rest first, though...just a few more minutes...  
I closed my eyes and the snow covered me like a soft blanket.

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A/N: Thanks for reading, everyone who has made it this far. I'll definetly continue this in a second chapter, though it may take a while.

Have a wonderful day!


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